Blue

by Silenta-Atestanto

The history of our world is a simple one. An Overlord emerges to terrorize mankind, before a Hero rises up to slay him. So the cycle went, until it was broken when a succubus claimed the mantle, seduced the Hero sent to slay her, and created the stalemate we recognize today. But history is rarely ever so straightforward. I should know. I saw the events that would unfold for myself.

19. Chapter 19: Revelations

Chapter 19: Revelations

Konstantin suddenly sat upright. But his eyes were not deceiving him. Baphomet was nowhere in sight. The only other person in the chamber was the horned woman with burgundy hair. "Wh-What just happened?" he stammered. "Where's Baphomet?"

The horned woman tilted her head. "What are you talking about?" she asked. "I'm right here."

Shakily, Konstantin rose to his feet to give the woman another look over. At first, he'd thought she was just a woman with horns, clad in a dark red cape and a strange black garment that clung to her body like a second skin… until he saw her hands and feet. At a glance, it looked like the woman wore gloves and boots made of burgundy-colored fur. But, her legs ended with black cloven hooves, and her fingers were tipped with small black claws. Furthermore, her ears were long, floppy, and covered in that same burgundy-colored fur- they were definitely the ears of some animal, but Konstantin couldn't identify which. And her eyes… they were deep red. That wouldn't have been odd, but the shape of her pupils were: rectangular, rather than circles. Like a goat's. The horned woman wasn't human, that much was clear, but he had no idea what sort of creature she was. But a far more pressing question had come to mind, and before he could stop himself, he asked:

"Why are you taking a woman's form?"

The burgundy-haired woman put her hands on her hips and scowled. "Maybe it's because I am a woman, you ass!"

Konstantin couldn't help but feel skeptical. The massive skull-headed beast that had been in this room when he'd first arrived gave not even the barest hint of being female.

"W-Well, why are you… so…" There were quite a few things Konstantin wanted to say. Things like, "Why are you so short?"- even with her horns, the burgundy-haired woman didn't even reach his shoulder- and, "Why are your tits so big?"- her attire did not leave much to the imagination. But, Konstantin managed to restrain himself before another foolish question could spill out.

For a moment, the burgundy-haired woman glared up at Konstantin, before flames as black as the night sky erupted from her body, swallowing it completely. The black flames grew larger and larger, until the familiar, towering form of Baphomet emerged. As the beast loomed over him, eyes blazing in a fierce glare, Konstantin could see nothing to indicate that the creature standing before him was female. "It may surprise you to learn this, but being an Overlord carries with it a certain amount of expectations," Baphomet said in his deep grinding voice. Once again, black flames burst from the beast's body, swallowing him, slowly shrinking until they died away, leaving the burgundy-haired woman standing in Baphomet's place. "And looking like this doesn't exactly inspire fear and respect in the legions I'm meant to command." The burgundy-haired woman- or rather, Baphomet - ran her hands down her sides for emphasis, before crossing her arms over her chest. Or rather, under her considerable bosom. "Now, I believe I asked you a question. What is your answer?"

"W-What?" Konstantin asked dumbly in reply, unwilling to admit he'd just been staring at the chest of the most powerful monster in the world.

The horned- Baphomet slowly began to walk to his- her throne. "To all who would serve me, I ask two questions: 'Are you strong?' and 'Will you obey?'"

Right. She had asked Konstantin those very questions just a few minutes before. But, perhaps the true question was… did he really have a say in the matter? Before, he barely even qualified as a mage- even the most basic cantrips strained his mana to the breaking point, and anything beyond that drained him entirely. It was only through Baphomet's power that he was able to stand on equal footing with his peers. That, and the knowledge taken from her black book. By taking her power… by picking up that book, was he not already bound to her will? Why ask that question at all?

Baphomet leapt up to the seat of her throne- some two meters above the floor- with ease, and seated herself, completely dwarfed by the massive seat of carved black stone. As s looked down at him, her legs dangling over the edge, she must have interpreted his silence as hesitation. "What is it that you desire, Stolas Konstantin Durnehviir?" she asked. "Do you seek vengeance for past wrongs? To reclaim something that was once rightfully yours? For all to quake at the mention at your name? Whatever it may be, by serving me, you can make it so. Fame, fortunes… the comforts of flesh." Baphomet visibly laid a hand on her bosom as she said that. So she had seen him staring. "There is nothing in this world beyond my reach. And should you serve me, my hand will become yours. My power will become yours. And with that power, you may seize whatever you desire. I know that you are strong, Stolas Konstantin Durnehviir. For all of your strength lies wholly within me. And I am the strongest of all. So, once more, I will only ask you one question." She leaned forward. "Will you obey?"

Images flashed in Konstantin's mind: of himself, in the dean's office, reaching over the dean's desk with his hand engulfed in flames, burning away the flesh of the dean's egg-shaped head down to the bone; of soldiers in red and white fleeing before him, before he threw bolts of lightning at them that blasted them into dark sprays of red blood; of the female students of the academy who once mocked him openly, now fawning over him, pressing against him, giving no resistance as his hands roved over them freely. Images of himself being powerful, of being… feared. He had a small taste of it in his duel with Rudolf. As hard as he had tried, the dean couldn't take that feeling away from him. Konstantin wanted more.

And he would get it. He would take back everything he was owed, with interest. Even if he had to pry it from their smoldering corpses.

Konstantin slowly sank to one knee. He'd always hated to kneel before others- and even as a baronet, he had to do it often. But unlike other times before, he felt no humiliation, no debasement. Was it because unlike the petty nobles of his home city, Baphomet was someone who truly deserved such obeisance? Or was it because, as a small part of his mind suggested, this would be the last time he would ever have to kneel to anyone? Whatever it was, free of any shame or humiliation, Konstantin let his knee touch the floor, bowed his head, and gave his answer.

"I will obey, Baphomet." He raised his head. "Lord Baphomet."

For a moment, the burgundy-haired woman smiled. "Please. There's no need to be so formal. Now…" Then, Baphomet was consumed by black flames, leaving behind a massive skull-headed figure seated on the throne as they parted. "…it is time for you to meet your comrades-in-arms."

---

A red hole opened in the world, and the petite form of Luxuria stepped into her chambers.

Lord Baphomet had suddenly called upon his generals once again, to introduce the Black Hand's newest member: a thoroughly unimpressive young man she had named Stolas. The demon couldn't deny that she sensed a measure of power in the young man, but she couldn't fathom what purpose he was meant to serve. A spy, perhaps? But Lord Baphomet had no shortage of spies scattered across the world, ones with many more years of devoted service and far greater ability. Though she had kept her thoughts hidden, perhaps the degeneration that every Overlord inevitably succumbed to was finally beginning to manifest in Lord Baphomet.

Almost as soon as her feet touched the floor of her chambers, a voice spoke to her. Not the cool voice of her personal attendant, but the rougher voice of her third daughter. "Welcome back, Mother," Korzanna said, standing by the door leading to the balcony, hands clasped at her waist. As if she had been waiting for her.

Instantly, something felt amiss. And a quick glance over her "daughter" confirmed her suspicion. "Korzanna," Luxuria began.

"Yes, Mother?" Korzanna asked, drawing closer.

Then, before her daughter could blink, Luxuria reached out, her arm twisting, becoming covered with black plates and tipped with steel-rending talons. But she didn't swipe at Korzanna, but at the air next to her. Or rather, at the thin, almost invisible thread of slime attached to Korzanna's shoulder that trailed out of the room. And as soon as it was severed, Korzanna collapsed, melting into a puddle of dark purple goo. She didn't even have time to look surprised as she melted away into nothing.

Then the demon held out her hand and uttered, "Kyda." Another glowing Gate opened in the air, and a female figure formed from dark purple slime fell through it, the impact with the floor causing her collapse into a puddle. As Laraquel began to draw herself up, Luxuria said harshly, "Where is my daughter?"

Laraquel began to stammer. She had prepared excuses and explanations in the event that Lady Luxuria uncovered the truth, but things had been so abrupt that she couldn't recall any of them.

The demon glared down at Laraquel, her eyes shining in a red light. "Where. Is. My daughter?"

The slime-girl's stammers were silenced as a puddle began to form around her as she shed excess water- a reflex meant to make her a smaller target when threatened. And still, she was unable to produce any sort of excuse.

Still glaring, Luxuria said, "Very well. If you won't tell me, then I will simply find her myself. "With her finger, she traced a small sigil in the air, and said "Yldejyda," activating a spell. After losing both elder daughters in the last war for the Overlord's mantle, the demon had placed an enchantment on her surviving children: a beacon, allowing her to sense their locations, wherever in the world they may have been. And once she had Korzanna's location, Luxuria held out a hand and focused, reaching out across the void to connect the points between herself and her daughter. Never before had she tried to open a Gate over such a vast distance- the mere attempt would have killed a lesser demon, and even she felt an uncommon strain as her mana reserves were stretched to their limit. But after just a few moments more, the gap was bridged, and Luxuria intoned, "Kyda."

A third Gate opened in the air, and a third figure fell through it- a woman with black hair and simple traveler's clothes. She had been holding something in her hands, and when the figure hit the floor, it fell from her grasp and rolled a short distance away. Though she had masked her appearance, the woman was Korzanna- though she'd tried to suppress it, small traces of her mana leaked out, detectable only to those with great magic sensitivity. Those like Luxuria.

Someone then spoke. It wasn't Luxuria, Korzanna, or Laraquel, but a rougher, unfamiliar voice, emanating from the object Korzanna had dropped. "Dammit…" it said. "Why do you people keep dropping me?" The object was a human head, its gaze darting around the room before its eye settled on Luxuria. Its left eye- the right socket was empty. "And who the hell are you supposed to be?"

"Eh- M-Mother!" the black-haired woman stammered. Her body began to shift, shrinking, her skin paling, her hair shortening into a familiar, spiked style with deep red tips- and in moments, she was Korzanna, Luxuria's third daughter once more. She shrank away from Luxuria, but the older demon held out her hand, causing both her daughter and her daughter's servant to freeze in place, bound by Luxuria's will alone.

"Dear daughter," she began. "I believe I gave you explicit instructions that you were not to leave my chambers. And you." Her gaze shifted to Laraquel, making the slime-girl flinch. "You may be Korzanna's servant, but you serve her at my pleasure. And I will have you know, I am most displeased with your recent conduct." Finally, she stepped over to the head and picked it up. "And… well, I don't know what you're supposed to be," she began. "But rest assured-"

But Luxuria's concentration was broken when a familiar voice rang out behind her. "My Lady," Joanna said. "I have news."

For a moment, Luxuria stood, glaring at her daughter, her daughter's servant, and the living head in turn- both Korzanna and Laraquel flinched under her eye, but the head was steadfast, returning her glare. Then, the demon turned to face the source of the voice: a black mirror set in the wall behind her. Only the mirror didn't reflect the room. Instead, it showed Joanna's face. Wherever the vampire was, it was night, and she was surrounded by the dark shapes of leaves and branches. Was she perched in a tree?

"I fear now is not the best time, Joanna," the demon said as she seated herself in front of the mirror, setting the living head aside, trying to prevent her anger from spilling out onto her faithful servant. "But, what news have you for me?"

"I finally caught up to Andralaxia," she replied. "I followed them as closely as I dare, but I can go no farther."

"And why not?"

"Andralaxia and the Hero are making their way to Guillaume's stronghold."

Luxuria shot to her feet, knocking her chair over. "What!?" Instantly she began focusing. "Where are you now!? Why didn't you follow her!?"

"The local Mage's Guild erected a barrier around his stronghold. Breaching it would draw too much attention, so I'm searching for another way through."

Luxuria gripped the edges of the mirror tightly, causing small cracks to form in its surface. "Joanna if you allow that abomination to lay his hands on her-"

Joanna's gaze snapped to something outside the mirror's view. "Wait," the vampire interrupted. "Something's happening."

"Show me." Luxuria commanded.

Joanna complied, and the world within the mirror spun as she turned to face it toward the disturbance.

---

Noxious air rushed from the opening in the barrier, and with it came Abel and the others. Almost all of them doubled over or collapsed to their knees, breathing heavily. "I feel like I can breathe again…" Seth muttered faintly.

Once the barrier was shut, one of the mages from when they arrived- the female, approached Claire, who was down on one knee. "Madame President, are you alright?" She drew closer, but the president raised a hand, causing her to stop as she caught her breath.

After a moment, Claire rose to her feet, asking in a strained voice, "How long were we gone?"

"About two days, Madame President," the mage replied.

Abel recoiled. Two days? Had they really been in the marsh that long? The darkness made it hard to tell just how much time had passed, but even so, it hadn't felt that long… and Abel was far from alone. "Two days?" Raine asked incredulously. "I know it was a bit of a hike on the way back, but…"

"Madame President," the mage continued, "Headquarters will want a report of what happened while you were inside the barrier. But, I assume you'll want to wait until morning?"

The president glared up at the mage. "What the fuck do you think?" Abel noticed that since Roland had joined them, Claire hadn't sworn even once until just now. Her self-restraint must have been especially frayed. But a moment later, Claire stumbled to her feet with a breath. "…As president, I should return to Aglis, report the events that transpired myself."

The mage didn't seemed surprised or offended by Claire's shortness. "As you wish. And per your request, accommodations have been prepared for your return." She pointed to the barracks. "The garrison has set a section of the barracks aside for use by you and your party."

Abel breathed a sigh of relief. The others looked like they were ready to fall asleep where they stood without bothering to set up camp first.

"A moment please," Violet then said. "There is something I wish to test first."

Raine's shoulders slumped. "Really? It's that's important that it can't wait until morning?"

But Violet didn't answer as she walked toward the golden post. As she did, she removed something from a pouch in her belt. With the object clutched in her hand, she reached toward the barrier. "Wait, hold on-" the mage began to shout.

But when Violet touched the barrier, it shattered like glass, and the shimmering lights on the sides of the golden post winked out. Once again, the miasma rushed through the opening, shrouding the group with another gout of foul, noxious air. But after a moment, the post's blue lights flickered back to life, and the hole in the barrier closed, stemming the flow of miasma.

As the stinking cloud of miasma dissipated, the mage shouted, "What did you just do!?"

"Just as I thought…" Violet said, seemingly paying the mage no mind.

Claire reached out, her staff appearing in her hand. "Yeah? Care to share with the rest of us?" she snapped.

Calmly, Violet turned to face the president and the others. "Let me ask you something: How do you think Guillaume's flesh golems escaped the marsh?"

The president stammered. "H- W-What?"

"Through his research," Violet began, "Grandfather Valerian learned that miasma was a physical substance, not merely a spiritual malaise. It consists of small, almost invisible particles, naturally shed by monsters, and concentrations are strongest where they make their dens." The alchemist looked toward the golden post. "I will admit, I am far from an expert in the field of enchanted artifacts, but to my understanding, these posts were designed to prevent the spread of miasma, by producing a barrier which repels any object beyond a certain size which attempts to pass through it. Objects such as the particles shed by monsters- what we call 'miasma.'"

Both Claire and the mage looked at Violet in shock. "How… did you know all that?" the mage asked.

The alchemist continued: "Yet, we encountered flesh golems far beyond the bounds of this barrier. How would this be possible?" She looked back to Claire and the others. "Because… rubedo has the ability to disrupt the flow of magic." She held up a vial of the glowing pink-red fluid. "I had my suspicions after observing your previous battles, but only now have I been able to confirm my hypothesis."

That… made a surprising amount of sense. Abel's magic seemed far less effective against the flesh golems than any other foe he'd faced so far. And Even Claire and Niel, whose skill in magic far exceeded his own, could barely scratch them.

Minze approached Violet, placing a hand on her shoulder. "My Lady…" she said. "While this is a valuable discovery, perhaps these experiments would be best saved for another time. And without involving artifacts owned by other institutions." Her gaze turned to Claire and the female mage: though Claire was calm, the mage was tense, as if preparing to attack Violet at any moment.

Violet blinked. "I… yes, of course," she said. "My apologies, Minze. And to you as well, Miss Meltrose."

The mage finally relaxed. "Damn academics…" she muttered. "At any rate, your accommodations are in the barracks' south wing. You are free are use the facilities at your leisure."

Just as the mage said, a wing of the barracks was empty, with fresh beds lined up in neat rows. Everyone dropped into one, falling asleep in what seemed to be a matter of moments. But, Abel couldn't sleep. He wanted to- he could feel the fatigue, pressing him down against the mattress like a heavy stone slab laid over his body. But sleep simply wouldn't come to him.

Eventually, he grew fed up of rolling over in his cot again and again, climbed out of his bed, and stepped out of the barracks. The world outside was dark, but not in the same way the marsh had been dark. There, the darkness had been smothering, absolute, a void of nothingness that threatened to swallow everything that dared to enter it. But outside the barrier, the darkness was soft, gentle, like a blanket laid over the land. Abel had always been fond of the night- in Seles, it was the only time when he ever felt truly at ease, when Master Rachel and everyone else were fast asleep. He would sneak out of Master Rachel's cabin and look up at the sky, glittering with stars beyond counting. The peace of mind it brought him outweighed the risk of being caught. And he had been caught before. Twice, in fact. But neither beating had been enough to discourage him. Even now, in this land so far from Seles, sitting and looking up at the sky filled Abel with a sense of serenity, of peace.

And it was with that sense of serenity, disturbed only by the faintest sound of the wind rustling through the grass, that he said aloud, "…You knew. Didn't you?"

"…Are you talking to me?" a scratchy voice asked in his head.

Abel continued. "You knew I was looking for Guillaume this whole time, didn't you? Why didn't you say anything? Why did you lie to Violet and Minze? Why did you lie to me?"

Niel emerged, looking Abel in the eye. Her tone was cold, her face blank and unreadable. "Because telling you would have overstepped the boundaries of my role as your advisor. Before I descended, I was given information about the state of world affairs. But until you learn that information for yourself, I'm forbidden from sharing or discussing it with you. Sharing before then would give you an unfair advantage over the other Champions."

"Unfair?" Abel stood, looking down at the angel incredulously. "This isn't a game, Niel! People are dying! Don't you care about them? …Do any of you gods care?"

Niel turned away. For several moments, she didn't reply. She simply floated in the air, shaking. Then, after several long breaths, in slow measured words, she asked, "Abel… do you remember… what happened at the Promestein estate? What I did?"

The angel's question took Abel by surprise. But his surprise didn't abate his anger. "I do," he replied brusquely. In truth, were it not for the angel's intervention, he, Violet, Raine, and Holly probably wouldn't have been alive at that moment. "But what does that-"

Niel darted up to eye level with an angry expression, eyes glowing faintly in the dark. Most would probably find her anger charming rather than intimidating, but Abel had seen for herself what the angel was capable of. "Do you have any idea how much trouble I got in for doing that? I could've lost my role as your advisor." She struck her chest with her palm. "I could have lost my halo. Not interfering in mortal affairs is something Ilias- something all the gods take very seriously. Showing too much favor can disrupt the balance of power in the heavens. And I was already on thin ice as it was because-" She abruptly stopped, eyes widening, as if she'd realized she was about to let something important slip out.

Abel noticed. "Because of what?"

The angel pulled away, turning her back to him. "…I don't get to make the rules, Abel. But I have to follow them. At least, I do if you want me to stay." She glanced back, folding her arms over her chest as she shot a disapproving look. "…Though it's clear you've made your choice on who you stand with."

"Don't try to change the subject! Why were you on thin ice?"

Niel drifted away. "I'm not at liberty to discuss that."

For a moment, Abel merely stared. Then he finally spoke. "…You really don't care, do you?"

Niel looked back.

He let out a short laugh. "Fiann… she was right. This is all just a game to you. At my expense. You don't actually think I'll succeed, do you?" Before he knew what he was doing, all the doubts and fears Abel felt about his quest came spilling out. "You just want to see how far I'll go before I fail." His voice slowly became louder. "Is it fun for you? Watching me stumble around not knowing what to do? I bet it is. You're just like Zechariah and the others. Who needs an Overlord when -"

"How dare you…" the angel growled faintly. Suddenly, Niel darted to Abel and grabbed him by the collar, lifting him into the air with an effortless, terrifying ease. "How dare you! You wouldn't even be alive right now if not for me!"

The image of the angel slamming the flesh golem into the tiled floor of the Promestein manor's foyer flashed through Abel's mind- the golem had barely been slowed down, but he was nowhere near as resilient. "Niel wait-!"

But for several moments, the angel simply held Abel up, her glare fixed on him for several long moments. Then, hanging her head, she looked away, and said, "…Roland… wasn't supposed to be Ilias's Champion. Did you know that?"

"…What?"

"I was sent to Seles to find that boy, Zechariah. Ilias chose him to be her Champion. But when I saw him, what he did to you… I knew I could never awaken his potential as a Hero. If he were ever awakened, he would become a tyrant worse than any Overlord could hope to be. But before I could tell her my refusal, you tried to leave. And you were almost killed."

Her grip tightened. "I begged Hel to spare your soul. For Bacchus to accept you as her Champion. I gave you almost all of my blood to save you. I would've given you all of it, if I had to." She looked back at him. She was still glaring, with tears flowing down her face. "I sacrificed almost everything I had to save you. So don't you ever say that this is nothing but a game to me."

Niel finally released Abel, and she turned away again. "…Abel," she began. Her tone had softened, but not by much. "I'm not withholding information just to make your quest more difficult. They're part of the conditions that Ilias placed on me. I want to stay with you. I want to help you. But… if I do too much… if she thinks I've provided you with undue aid… she'll expel me from the heavens. Or worse, recall me entirely and replace me with another angel."

Abel didn't answer. His heart was still racing. Niel… she…

Niel turned, fluttering back toward the barracks. "…Even telling you this much might be considered overstepping my boundaries. But… I need you to know. You need to understand why things have to be the way they are. I need you to understand just…" The word hung in the air, as if she wanted to add more. But in the end, the angel simply said, "…you should get some rest. We have a long way back to Aglis." And with a flap of her wings, she left.

Abel slowly rose to his feet. He looked on, watching the angel depart, before turning his gaze back to the sky. He should have been angry, or upset… but he wasn't. He wasn't even surprised. If anything, what he felt was… relief.

To know for certain… what he already suspected.

That the reason why he felt out of place among the other Heroes, and even among those he called his friends, was because… he was. He was never meant to be a Hero.

He'd never even meant to make it this far… at all.

---

"Abel look out!" Holly tackled Abel to the ground. Despite her small size, she was rather heavy, heavy enough to knock the air out of his lungs.

But, why? Had he done something to upset her?

Then, an arm covered in thick black fur, tipped with glossy claws swiped at the air where he had been standing. Its owner lumbered into view, towering over him and Holly: a bear, standing twice his height, with glowing red eyes and what seemed like far too many teeth. It stood over them, letting out an angry bellow.

Right.

He was in the middle of a battle.

Holly began scrambling to rise. But the bear was already swinging its claws at her. Even if the mercenary had time to brace herself, the blow would have crushed her bones into powder. But a purple blur rushed the bear from Abel's right, and slammed into the beast's side, knocking it over. And before it could rise, the blur leapt onto its body, thrusting its weapon into the bear's body. The bear roared, but over its pained cries, Abel heard a harsh voice shout, "Thunderous fangs: Discharge!" White bolts streaked across the bear's body. It seized, letting out sounds that were somewhere between roars and whimpers, until it fell silent, still twitching, its body smoldering.

Glaring, Claire yanked her staff out of the dead bear and leapt off its body, striding directly toward Abel. "What is wrong with you, degenerate!?" she shouted. "Do you think you're invincible just because you took down one of the Overlord's generals? Well?" She thrust the end of her staff right into Abel's face, splattering a bit of the bear's blood on his cheek.

Abel stared blankly at the president. He'd heard her words, but for some reason, he could derive no meaning from them. "Hey, are you listening!?" Glaring, Claire raised her hand and snapped her fingers right in front of Abel's face.

Finally, Abel reacted. "Uh… did you just ask me something?"

Claire slapped her hand against her face. "I can't fucking put up with this shit right now…" she muttered, before pointing to Holly. "You. Deal with him. I need to step away before I strangle this imbecile." Then she stalked off before Holly could protest, or Abel could ask another inane question.

Holly looked up at Abel. "Um… are you… feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," he replied absently. It was true. He hadn't been hurt by the fall in the slightest. He looked around- the bear had been the last of their foes, who all lay motionless in the road. And it seemed the others were okay as well.

Raine drew close. "Blue, that's obviously not what Jugs meant. You've been out of it all day. Is something bothering you?" Her voice had a concerned tone, without the witch's usual levity.

"I… haven't been sleeping," he replied slowly. That was also true. He hadn't gotten any sleep the night before.

Raine tilted her head, brow furrowed. "So you didn't get any sleep last night? That's no reason for you to be so sloppy. Jugs here almost-"

"No I… I haven't slept, since we went into the marsh."

Since setting out for Aglis, Abel had been simply unable to sleep. From the time until the campfire went out, until the first light of dawn, he would lay in his bedroll, staring up at the sky, or reading a few pages from Dragonslayer. Once, he had seen Fiann standing over him as he "slept," watching him for hours on end- another time, he'd overheard a strange one-sided conversation from Raine, mentioning something about not getting any good "draws" for this season. Fatigue weighed down on him more and more with each passing day. He felt… slow, as if the world was always a few moments ahead of him. Yet, as much as he wanted it to, sleep… simply wouldn't come.

"Hold on," Raine said. "Blue, are you telling me you've been awake for almost a week straight?"

Again, Abel didn't answer. He tilted his head at the witch, confused, deriving no meaning from her words.

Without hesitation, Minze pushed past Raine, reached up, and pulled down on Abel's lower eyelid. As she looked into his eye, she said, "It may be a lingering effect of the miasma. While there are certain symptoms common to all people exposed to it, certain individuals can suffer from more unusual side-effects."

Fiann hurried over, scrawling something in her journal before holding it up. "'Can you cure it?'" Minze read, before answering, "I know a handful of remedies for insomnia. But we'll need to make camp so I can prepare them."

So, the group's travels came to an abrupt end just before midday. Abel was laid out in his bedroll under some shade. Minze, with Violet's aid, set out to creating the needed remedy. Everyone else went to work erecting their camp. All but Minze. She sat next to Abel, looking down at him. She seemed… worried.

"I'm… sorry," he said. He couldn't believe how much of a burden he was being. Everyone else had to stop to look after him

Fiann held up her journal. It took a few reads before he could understand the words she'd written. [It's alright. Just try to rest. I will protect you.]

"Fiann? Can you… play a song for me? The one you were playing… right before we met."

The bard smiled broadly. Then she took out her lute, gave the strings a few experimental plucks, and began to play. The gentle notes seemed to wash over him like the wind, making him feel more at ease… though still, it wasn't enough for sleep to come.

But all at once, Fiann stopped playing, and in the corner of his eye, Abel saw the bard tense. He looked over, to see Minze, holding a small bottle with thin white smoke leaking out of its neck.

As she set the bottle next to him, he asked. "What… is that?"

"This is an incense that induces sleep," the maid replied. "Normally, it's used as an anesthetic for surgical procedures, but it's found additional use as an insomnia remedy."

Abel didn't know what an anesthetic was. And doubted he would understand even if it was explained to him. "How… long will it… take?" he asked.

"That can vary depending on a number of factors," she replied. "Now, I would like you to do something for me."

"What…?" Abel began to sit up… or, tried to. "But-"

But the maid interrupted him. "It's very simple. You won't even need to leave your bedroll. All I need is for you to count backwards from ten."

"Uh… okay." It was a strange request, but as the maid said, a simple one. "Ten. Nine…" He had to pause in thought for a moment. "…Eight…" Abel strained his brain. Why was he having so much trouble counting? He closed his eyes to concentrate…

…and when he opened them again, he was greeted by the sight of an unfamiliar grey ceiling hanging above him

Instantly, Abel sat upright, looking around. He was in a bedroom, lying on a small bed, on top of the blankets as if someone had laid him there. The room reminded Abel of the bedrooms in the Promesteins' manor, with two significant differences. First, the paned window was gone, a blank grey wall in its place; and second, other than himself, everything in the room was grey. The bed, the walls, the table and chairs, the wooden floor… all were colored a simple, flat grey, like that of the sky on a cloudy day.

Abel climbed off the bed and tried the door. It didn't open- the knob wouldn't turn, and when he pulled it, the door didn't even rattle in its frame. He then focused, trying to call a sword of light to his hand- his sword belt was missing- but… nothing happened. Abel concentrated until his temples began throbbing, but even so, nothing happened. His heart began to pound in his chest, but Abel tried to keep his composure by taking slow, measured breaths. "Niel, what happened?" he asked out loud. "How did we get here?" But the familiar scratchy voice didn't answer. "Niel?" Again, there was no answer.

At that moment, the door opened, and a figure stepped through- a woman. She instantly stood out; other than Abel himself, she was the first thing he'd seen that had any color. She was tall- almost a full head taller than him- with long lavender-colored hair and dark red eyes, wearing a long, dark blue dress with two wide grey stripes running down the front. Abel was struck, not merely by the strange woman's arrival, but by her appearance. She looked a lot like Violet. …An older, taller, less pale, longer-haired, and… much bustier version of Violet. Her dress had a rather low cut that exposed a very generous portion of her chest that seemed ready to spill out at any moment.

"Oh, you're awake," the woman said in a calm, smooth voice. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting." She crossed the room, taking a seat at one of the chairs by the table. Despite their prodigious amount of swaying, somehow, her bosom remained safely confined. Once seated, she continued: "The incense I made for you doesn't merely induce sleep. Anyone who falls asleep while breathing its smoke will be able to share their dreams."

Abel stood frozen by the far wall, utterly baffled. What was this woman talking about? But she continued on, oblivious to his confusion. "I'd actually hoped to speak with you alone for some time, but I could never find the proper opening. I hope you'll forgive me for taking advantage of your situation."

The woman finally fell silent. And Abel seized on the opening. "Hold on just a moment. Who are you? And… how did you get here? Where are we?"

The woman rested her arms on the table, hands clasped, leaning forward very slightly. Abel tried not to look into the yawning chasm she had (accidentally?) revealed. "I know we haven't known each other for long, Abel, but you do know me." She then sat upright stiffly, her expression becoming stoic and unreadable, and when she spoke again, her voice was steely and devoid of emotion. "Perhaps speaking like this will refresh your memory."

Abel's jaw fell open. The woman's voice… it was a perfect copy of Minze. It wasn't merely a skilled imitation- if he'd shut his eyes, he would have been completely convinced that the Promesteins' maid was in this strange room with him.

Only, the woman sitting in front of him very obviously wasn't the Promesteins' maid. She did feel familiar, and not merely because of her uncanny resemblance to Violet, but Abel couldn't quite place where he'd seen her…

The strange woman noticed Abel's confusion. "Do you recall seeing a portrait in the dining room of the Promestein manor?" she asked, her voice becoming more relaxed. Abel nodded- he did, and after being reminded, he realized the woman was practically identical to the one in the portrait. "And did you ever read the plaque attached to it?" Abel shook his head. Though he'd noticed the portrait, with his mind occupied by other matters, he never thought to investigate it further.

The woman frowned, though only for a moment. "I see. Then, allow me to introduce myself." She rested a hand on her bountiful bosom. "My name is Edelweiss. Edelweiss V. Promestein."

Edelweiss. Abel recognized that name. But… "Edelweiss? As in… Valerian's wife?"

The woman tilted her head with a small smile. "Do you know any others?"

"Well, n-no, but… you… you're supposed to be dead."

The woman brought up a hand, and looked at her fingernails. "Yes, that is what the history books would have you believe." She looked away. "But that was intentional. A deliberate obfuscation of the truth." She then turned to Abel again, and extended a hand to the empty seat across from her. "Sit, please. This is a rather long story."

As Abel stood looking at the woman, he had a sudden realization. This place, this woman, the absence of his powers… all of it was a dream. No doubt brought on by that strange incense. But what should he do? Play along? And why was he having a dream about a woman who'd been dead for hundreds of years, whose portrait he'd barely glimpsed in a stranger's house?

The woman- Edelweiss, apparently- tilted her head again, though this time, she was frowning. "Abel?"

Something about her saying his name snapped Abel out of his torpor. He decided he would humor the woman, though that didn't mean he believed anything she had to say. Seating himself across from her, he said, "Alright. Let's pretend I actually believe you're really Edelweiss. How are you still alive?"

Edelweiss's gaze turned to Abel. She wasn't looking at him, but… past him, as if gazing at something far away. "Not long after I married Valerian, I contracted an illness, claimed by physicians to be all but incurable," she said. "Even so, Valerian was desperate to save my life, using every means within his power to treat me." She looked away, and began to wind a long lock of hair around her finger. "But what is omitted from historical records was Valerian's final and most radical treatment. When all other methods had failed, he decided that if he couldn't save my body, he would save my mind, by transferring it into a new body free of the disease. But not just any body would do- it needed to be specially prepared, so as not to reject my soul. Thus, through alchemy, he created a homunculus- an artificial body- and placed my consciousness- my soul, so to speak- into it. From an outsider's perspective, it appeared that I had succumbed to the disease, and so, my original body was buried."

Abel did the math in his head. Minze said she had served the Promesteins for four hundred fifty-one years. That did align to the time when Edelweiss was supposed to have died in 539. But… "Why would he do that?"

Her gaze focused on Abel intently. "Have you ever loved someone? With all of your heart? Loved them so dearly that in the face of losing them, there were no lengths you wouldn't go to, to keep them by your side?"

A memory flashed in Abel's head: himself, pointing a sword of light at Niel, as a battered, bleeding Lailah clung to him. So, yes. He had some idea of how Valerian might have felt.

Edelweiss looked away again. "That is how much Valerian loved me. That he would defy Death itself before letting it take me from him." Her gaze turned downward. "For as long as I knew Valerian, I have only ever seen him cry twice. The first time was right before our wedding. And the second… was after awoke on his operating table, after placing my soul into my new body."

Edelweiss's gaze turned back to Abel. "Valerian then left Kazas, taking me and the rest of our family. He chose to live in seclusion, not to mourn my passing as he claimed, but to protect me. He told no one of what he had done- not even our own children. To everyone, it appeared that that I had passed on, and that Valerian had hired a new housemaid to help raise his children. Everyone… except for him, and me."

"Protect you? From what?"

Edelweiss brought up a hand, looking down at it. "As artificial beings requiring only magical energy for sustenance, homunculi are effectively immortal. If what Valerian had done were ever discovered, I would be hunted down and destroyed by the Church as an affront to the God of Death." She clenched her hand into a fist. "Or I would be dismantled by unscrupulous individuals seeking to gain immortality for themselves."

Abel could understand the decision. An immortal body, able to shrug off even the most serious wounds… But… "Why tell me all of this?" he asked. "What about Violet? She's your family. She should know."

"It was Valerian's final request. And, Violet is at a delicate age. If I reveal the truth now, it would shatter the trust she has in me forever. I have every intention of telling her, one day… but not now. Not yet." Edelweiss looked to Abel with a serious expression. "As to why I chose you… I trust you. If something were to happen to me, I believe you would be more than capable of defending Violet in my place, and telling her the truth of things. And, perhaps more importantly, I feel that Violet trusts you as well." She leaned back in her seat. "Which brings me to what I actually wanted to discuss with you. I want you to bring Violet with you in your travels."

Abel blinked, sitting up. "Wait, what? Why though? It's dangerous. And I know your estate was destroyed, but-"

"I don't care about the estate. And I'm well-aware of the danger. But it's clear the Promestein family has spent too long apart from the world. If Violet is to bring about positive changes in the world and find solutions to the world's problems, she must be willing to strike out and see these problems with her own eyes. I'm ashamed to admit it, but even I forgot the importance of field work for alchemy." Then, Edelweiss leaned forward. "And in any case, Violet should be around people her own age. Being utterly isolated for as long as she has isn't healthy for a person's development." She leaned forward further. "And I have no intention of abandoning Violet. I- or rather, Minze- will continue to stand faithfully by her side as I always have."

Abel let out a small breath of relief. As much as he sympathized with Violet's plight, he was on the verge of declining. But if Edelweiss- or, Minze, or… whoever she was supposed to be was with him, then… "Well… if you're sure, then… I'll take Violet with me." He let out another breath, realizing that he would have to justify his choice to Niel and the others. Hopefully, this woman would be willing to help him with that as well.

Edelweiss smiled. "I thought you might be amenable to my request. I'm happy to see I was right." An odd gleam then appeared in her eye. "Besides, if Violet were to develop an interest in a certain blue-haired Hero enough to ensure the continuation of the Promestein family line… well, I wouldn't be opposed to that in the slightest."

Abel hadn't been ready for the turn the conversation had taken. "What are you-"

Edelweiss flashed Abel a coy smile. "You know, Violet looks just like I did when I was that age." She stood and leaned over the table, making her… somethings sway noticeably. "Just think of what you see before you now as a premonition of what's to come." She pressed… them together with her arms, deepening the gap between them.

"Eeugh…" There were a lot of things Abel wanted to say at that moment. But he found it exceptionally difficult to find the words to say them.

But before he could collect himself, Edelweiss burst out laughing, before returning to her chair. "Oh, I'm sorry, dear. I know I shouldn't tease. But I'm happy to know that even with so many years under my belt, I can still turn a man's head."

Abel didn't reply. Now he knew for sure she'd been intentionally calling attention to her body this whole time. And he was too relieved that she'd finally stopped to be offended by her teasing.

"Anyway," the older woman said. "I've said all I needed to say. So…" She reached across the table, and tapped her finger against Abel's forehead.

Then Abel woke up.

He sat upright and looked around. He was no longer in the grey room, but at the camp the others had made, in his bedroll. Fiann was still at his side on her knees, sleeping. Sitting up, he looked around. The others were asleep as well… save for one, who was unpacking provisions next to the fire.

"Good morning, Sir Abel," Minze said, her voice flat and steely. "I trust you had a good rest."

"Uh. Yeah…" For some reason, he found it hard to look the maid in the eye. And that dream… had it been merely because of his exhaustion, or a side-effect caused by that incense? Either way though, the weight pulling him down had finally lifted. It seemed Minze's treatment had been a success.

"Should you have troubles with insomnia in the future, please don't hesitate to let me know," the maid said. "Also…"

Minze then ran her fingers through her hair, straightening her curls and throwing them back over her shoulders. She leaned forward, giving Abel a coy smile, and in a flirtatious tone, the maid said, "…do give what I said about Violet at least some thought, won't you?"

Abel's jaw dropped. Minze's voice… it sounded just like Edelweiss's. Or… was Edelweiss's voice the same as Minze's? But- then that meant-

One of the others began to stir. In a matter of moments, Minze- Edelweiss- whoever she was wound two lengths of hair around each hand before pulling away, her hair springing up into a pair of familiar spiral curls. The coy smile was gone, replaced with a stony and unreadable expression. And just like that, Edelweiss was gone, leaving Minze in her place. "Sir Abel," the maid said. The flirtatious tone was gone as well, replaced by a familiar flat tone. "Would you be willing to help me prepare breakfast for the others?"

"Y-Yeah. Sure…" The two then set to work. But as they did, setting out enough food for the rest of the group, Abel swore that at times when everyone else's attention was elsewhere, the maid would glance his way, and wink at him.

---

Two days would pass before the group sighted the red walls surrounding Aglis on the horizon. And it would take another two days before the group would set foot in the city once more. And as they entered, they were greeted by the sight of the city's citizens going about their day.

Raine looked around with a frown, hands on her hips. "Really? No heroes' welcome? Not even for the prince?" She turned. "And where are you going?"

Abel followed her gaze, to see Claire slowly walking away from the group, shoulders slumped, feet dragging against the ground. The president stopped, but didn't turn to face them. She didn't even look their way. "I need to report to the Guild that I've returned. But first, I'm going to the Temple of Eros to fuck some whores, and then get some proper fucking sleep in an actual fucking bed. Please excuse me." And before anyone could stop her, the president staggered off.

A moment passed before Roland stepped away from the group as well. "I'm afraid this is where we must part ways as well," he said. "I need to make a report to the Church now that we've returned."

Abel stepped forward. "I should-"

"Please, leave this to me," Roland said. "You've done more than enough. You should take this time to rest, and prepare for the next leg of your journey." And before Abel could protest further, the prince departed. For a moment, Abel stood frozen, too stunned to think. More than enough? he thought incredulously. He'd… barely done anything.

But before he could follow, or protest, Niel emerged. "I know this is a bit sudden…" she began, with a very wary expression. "But I just got a summons from the heavens. Ilias herself wants to evaluate my recent performance. I… don't know how long I'll be gone. But… I'll be back. I promise." She turned, and rocketed into the sky, becoming nothing more than a shining white blur, until she faded from sight somewhere in that infinite blue.

"Well, since everyone's splitting up…" Raine said, before sidling over to Lailah, putting her hands on her shoulders. "How 'bout you and I go do that thing we talked about?"

"W-What, now?" the priestess asked in surprise, trying to pull away. "But we've only just arrived and-"

"Exactly! We should get this done sooner rather than later! We might not get a chance later on if we stand around and wait!" And Raine began pulling Lailah away, the priestess voicing her objections all the while."

A moment passed, before Seth turned to the remainder of the group. "So. Does anyone else have somewhere else they need to be?"

Violet stepped forward. "Actually, I was hoping to replenish my stock of reagents. Minze, are you familiar with the vendors in this city?"

The maid looked somewhat exasperated, but bowed and replied. "It has been quite some time, My Lady. But I will gladly escort you." And she and her master departed as well.

Their group had eleven people when they first stepped through the gate just minutes before. Now, they were down to just four: Holly, Seth, Fiann, and Abel. A moment passed, before the thief asked, "…anyone else?" No one made a move.

"Can we find an inn?" Holly asked. "I'm actually a bit hungry."

The small group found an inn in short order. But rather than taking time to rest, Abel immediately set out into the city once again. He wasn't wandering aimlessly, however, and before long, the headquarters of the Mage's Guild, with its six floors and its square clock tower, came into view. But he stopped, just outside the gate. And not merely because he was barred from setting foot on Guild property.

…He couldn't do it. As hard as he tried, he couldn't will himself to step over that threshold. To face-

"Master Abel…" a voice from behind said. "You've returned."

Abel turned. Behind him, accompanied by a number of other mages, was the blonde vice-president of the Guild. In an instant, he turned his gaze away. "Miss Mavis…"

He'd caught enough of a glimpse to see that the vice-president was frowning. "Where are Madame President and Master Roland? Did they not accompany you?"

"Roland is making a report to the Church. And… I'm not sure where Claire went. But, I was hoping to find you." Setting his pack down, Abel retrieved Guillaume's skull, and set it on the ground next to the gate.

A murmuring went up among the others. "And… what might that be?" she asked.

He still couldn't bring himself to look Mavis in the eye. "…it's the head of Guillaume Rouque. The man who created the flesh golem that killed Erica."

More murmuring. "A head?" Guillaume Rouque?" "Isn't that an alchemist from the Ermisian Civil War?" "What is that guy thinking, bringing the Vice-President something like that…?"

Abel explained, recalling Violet's explanation. "That stuff we found inside that flesh golem…. it's something called 'rubedo.' It's an alchemical substance, made by extracting the life force of living things. Guillaume used it to bring the golems to life… and to make himself live longer. But… it's over now. Guillaume's dead. I killed him. And I cut off his head, and brought it to you." His gaze fell on the skull for a moment. "Just like I said I would."

"Master Abel…" Mavis said. The vice-president sounded… sad.

He hung his head. "I'm sorry. I caused your guild nothing but problems. But… we'll be leaving soon." He turned, and stepped past the vice-president, averting his gaze as he passed. "I wish I could have done more for all of you."

"Master Abel, please wait!" Mavis called.

He stopped. But he didn't look back.

"As acting President, on behalf of the Aglis Mage's Guild… you have my thanks," she said. "Should you ever have need of our services, please don't hesitate to call on us."

Abel didn't answer. He simply continued on, putting the Mage's Guild further and further behind him with each step, until he melted into the throngs gathered in the streets.

He'd avenged Erica. He'd killed Guillaume. And he brought Mavis Guillaume's head. He did everything he promised he would. But… none of it made him happy. None of it brought any sense of closure. That he'd made things right. Abel didn't feel like a hero. Or a Hero. He just felt… empty. What was he thinking, making that promise? It wouldn't have brought Erica back. And for a time, Abel wandered, directionless among the city streets, feeling as if he were smothered by a cloud of darkness.

But in his wanderings, he spotted something: a lavender-haired girl in a dark padded suit, alongside a white-haired woman in a green dress, both with packs filled to bursting on the backs. The white-haired woman moved at a steady pace, while the lavender-haired girl struggled to take even a single step forward. The girl recognized him, and waved vigorously. "Master Abel!" Violet called. "Master Abel, over-" She wavered, teetering for several moments before she finally toppled onto her back. "Ow. Verdammt."

"Language, My Lady," Minze said.

Abel approached the two, the dark clouds in his heart momentarily dispersing. "Are you alright?"

"M… Mostly," the alchemist replied, straining as she tried to stand. But the pack refused to budge, and in defeat, she slipped its straps off her shoulders. "Our excursion was a success."

"So I see. I'll help you take this back to the inn." He tried to lift Violet's pack. It didn't budge. It may as well have been nailed to the ground. "Guhhh! What's… in here? Bricks!?" Straining, Abel lifted the pack off the ground, but only barely- how had Violet managed to get it on her shoulders? After a few fruitless moments, he finally dropped the pack. The pack popped open as soon as it hit the ground, spilling its contents: a number of square blocks of white stone. Abel picked up one of the blocks. "…The brick thing was supposed to be a joke. What are these?"

Violet plucked the block from Abel's hand, placing it in the pack with the others. "Saltpetre blocks. I need them to make black powder."

"Why do you have so many?"

"I advised Lady Violet it would be prudent to gather a large stock while we had the opportunity," Minze replied. "But I'm afraid she took my words a bit too close to heart." She reached down, and without difficulty, slung Violet's pack onto her shoulder.

"And these are only one of the necessary ingredients- we have yet to purchase any sulphur or charcoal powder," Violet added. She then asked, "Now, you mentioned finding an inn?"

Abel guided the alchemist and the maid back to the inn. They planned to drop off their purchases before heading out again to buy the next round of supplies. As they walked, Violet shared all the fascinating things she had seen. Abel let her proceed- while it all seemed mundane to him, being in such a large city must have been quite the change for her. And lest he forget, he himself had been in her very position not that long ago.

But something she said caught Abel by surprise: "…Also, I would like to gain experience in searching for alchemical reagents in the field. Do you know if water hyacinth or xander root is commonly found in this region?"

"You… know I'm not from Aglis, right?" Abel said.

"I am aware. But I would like to spend some time learning more about you, Master Abel."

"And… why's that?" he asked cautiously.

"Well… I had the intention of asking to accompany you further on your travels. But, Minze told me that you had already requested I join your party. Is it not normal for those who travel together to wish to learn more about each other, Master Abel?"

Abel couldn't fault her logic. In fact, he'd been neglecting to get to know-

…Hold on. When had Violet started calling him "Master" Abel? He glanced over- Minze was following a few steps behind the two with a very pleased-looking smile on her face. Of course- she had something to do with it.

"That said, I do wish you had given the request to me directly, Master Abel," Violet continued, though in a more stern tone. "I may not yet be an adult, but I am head of the Promestein family, and more than capable of making decisions for myself."

"Eh… I'm sorry." He wasn't sure why he was apologizing. If anyone should be apologizing, it should have been the maid. He could see her in the corner of his eye, still smiling.

But all at once, Violet came to a stop, her attention focused on something up ahead- a building on the side of the road, with white plaster walls and an orange-tiled roof. It was old Cybelian from the design, and the way the air heated up as they drew close… it could only be-

"Minze…" Violet began. "Is that… a Cybelian bathhouse?"

"It is, My Lady," the maid replied.

"I see." Her attention turned to Abel. Without hesitation, she took one of his hands, holding it in hers tightly. "Master Abel… may we visit? I read that bathhouses like these are commonly used for socializing with others. It would make a perfect environment for us to become better acquainted."

Abel began to stammer. "Eh- I… uh, that's a bit-"

"My Lady-" Minze began, sounding somewhat concerned. Clearly, this hadn't been part of whatever plan she'd intended.

Violet held his hand tighter, pressing it against her chest, just above her… somethings. "Master Abel… could it be that… you do not wish to become better acquainted?"

"That- That's not-"

"Then… will you please allow me this indulgence?" Violet stared at him intently, her dark red eyes seeming to sparkle.

"Eh…" Something about the way she looked at him… it completely overpowered his reluctance. And his resolve finally crumbled. "…alright. But, only for a little while! You still have supplies to get."

"Y-Yes, that's right," Minze added. "And in any case, you will have plenty of opportunities to become better acquainted with Sir Abel on your travels. There is no need to rush."

The alchemist smiled broadly. "I thank you." She then pulled away, bounding up the bathhouse's steps. "Minze, please take our supplies to the inn! Abel and I will be along shortly!"

Abel stood, not following for several moments. "…You won't let things go too far, will you?" he asked.

"Of course not," the maid replied, her voice free of levity.

A few minutes and some silver coins later, Abel sank into the warm water of the men's bath. It wasn't as empty as he would have liked- including himself, there were enough men to need both hands to count them. But, the warmth soothed the aches that lingered in his body. And the water seemed to wash away the dark clouds in his heart. Unlike the bathhouse in Lohan, where the bath was divided into a men's and women's side divided by a wall under the open sky, each bath here was in its own enclosed room. In Lohan, he and Violet could have called out to each other over the dividing wall, but here, they would be completely separated. Abel did feel a little guilty, but he couldn't have known the layout for Aglis's bathhouse. And, regardless of what she may have read, this sort of place wasn't meant for socializing… at least, not across the lines of gender. So Abel sat in the bath, letting the warmth leach his troubles away.

…At least, until the door to the bath slid open, and he heard Violet call, "Abel? Are you here?"

Abel looked, only to immediately look away. There was a clamoring from the few men with him, but Violet seemed to pay it no mind as the faint sound of her footsteps drew closer. "Wh-He-wh-wha-what-what are you doing!?" he stammered.

Violet replied casually, as if she wasn't standing in front of Abel and a handful of other strangers completely naked, "We came here to get better acquainted, did we not?"

Abel glanced over to the alchemist, immediately wishing he hadn't. "I think I've learned plenty about you already!" He muttered quietly, "Niel, do something!" There was no answer. Then he remembered- Niel had been summoned to the heavens and still wasn't back yet. But, he had to do something. Preferably something that didn't involve manhandling a naked girl in the bath with a bunch of strangers watching.

"Hey now," one of the other men said- an older one with dark skin, bald, and covered with many scars. "The young lady came all this way just for you. Why not let her join? But if you aren't up for it…" His eyes roamed over Violet's body. "I could always take her off your hands."

The man's words set something in Abel alight. And the way he'd looked at Violet… he didn't like it. Not at all. The other men were looking at her the same way- some tried to hide their stares, while others didn't bother. And Violet continued to look down at Abel with a smile on her face, completely oblivious to the wolves' den she'd stepped into. He began to stand-

But then the door to the bath shot open. "Lady Violet!" Behind it was Minze- fully dressed, and wearing an expression that he had never seen before. In an instant, she crossed the bath and threw Violet over her shoulder.

Immediately, the alchemist tried to pull herself from her maid's grasp. "Wh- hey! Minze! I was in the middle of a bonding experience with Master Abel!"

"Lady Violet, you full well know this is not the sort of bonding experience I was talking about!" she said back harshly. She then added, much more quietly. "…I told you to go only if he was alone!" Then Minze slid the door shut behind her, cutting off their conversation.

A few disappointed groans erupted from the other men, and Abel heard the bald man say, "Guess the show's over then. It was fun while it lasted."

He could still see it. Every time Abel shut his eyes. It had only been a glimpse, but it was enough for Violet's pale, naked body to imprint itself into his mind's eye forever.

Abel stood, and began making his way for the door as well. After what had just happened, there was no way he'd be able to relax now.

---

"Are you… sure about this?" Lailah asked.

"Come on Sis, just try it," Raine replied, exasperated.

The priestess looked at the garment in her hands. It was so… small. Would it even fit her? And it would leave so much exposed…

As part of the Order of the Chief God, and even before, Lailah had never had to worry about clothes. But Sister Alexei's armor had been ruined, and her robes were hardly in any better condition- even a thorough washing and a hundred stitches from Minze were unable to salvage them. So, once the group had started back to Aglis, Raine declared she would take the priestess shopping to find a new outfit. And now they had made it back safely, the witch was determined to uphold that promise.

Raine groaned. "Okay, fine. But at least try this one." She pushed another garment into Lailah's hands: a more-sensible plain white dress… or so the priestess thought. There were no sleeves, and the back was completely open. Holding it up against herself, Lailah saw that the hem didn't even reach halfway down her thighs.

"Well, go on! Try it!" Raine then pushed Lailah into a small booth, separated from the rest of the store only by a small curtain. Admitting defeat, the priestess shut the curtain and began undressing.

A minute passed. Then two. Raine was growing impatient. "You done in there yet, Sis?"

From inside the booth, Lailah replied, "…I… I can't."

"Oh come on, it can't be that bad! Lemme see!"

Lailah's reply was a pained-sounding squeal. But she didn't emerge.

Raine huffed. "Fine. If you won't come out, then I'm coming in!"

"Wait, don't-!"

But Lailah's protest was cut off when Raine tore the curtain open and stepped into the booth. For a moment, even Raine herself was stunned into silence. She thought she had a good imagination, but it simply couldn't do justice to seeing the real thing for herself. "Oh… wow. Best not let Prez see you in that, Sis. She wouldn't be able to keep her hands off of you."

Lailah's shoulders slumped as she tugged at the dress's hem, as if it would lengthen if she pulled hard enough. "Can… I take this off now?"

"Hang on, I'm not done taking this all in, Sister." Raine circled around the priestess in the small booth, admiring her from seemingly every angle. "Y'know…" she began, "in the wise words of a good friend of mine: 'Every woman has a butt. But not every woman has an ass.' And you, Sis…" The witch reached out and patted Lailah's rear. "You've got an ass."

"Hey!" Lailah whipped around. "You keep your hands to yourself!"

Raine backed away (at least as much as she could in the small booth), hands raised. "Sorry, sorry. Wouldn't be fair to Blue for me to take the first bite out of you."

"Abel has nothing to do with this!"

The witch smiled. "Sure he does. I picked that dress for you because I thought he might like seeing you wear it. I know I do. And… well…" She drew in close. "You want Abel to like you, don't you?"

Lailah opened her mouth to protest. "That-" She stopped. What Raine said… it wasn't… not true, but-

The witch circled behind Lailah, putting her hands on the priestess's shoulders. "It never hurts to tilt the odds in your favor. Blue's managed to surround himself with an awful lot of pretty girls lately. One of them might step in and sweep him off his feet before you get the chance."

"Should I take that as a challenge?" Lailah asked, half-joking.

But only half.

The witch circled around Lailah again before leaving the booth. "Oh, you don't have to worry about me. I might tease from time to time, but I always saw myself as an ambush predator. I prefer my prey to come to me. And… well, I don't wanna talk badly about Blue while you're listening, I just don't think he has the guts to do something like that."

In the end, much to Raine's disappointment, Lailah's choice of outfit was something much more practical: a black vest, with golden seams and inlaid with chain link, steel pauldrons to protect her shoulders, and black shorts- not as long as she would have preferred, but certainly not as revealing as that dress. It didn't afford nearly as much protection as Sister Alexei's armor had, but a replacement set of full plate would cost four-and-a-half thousand livres, the single most expensive thing the priestess had ever seen in a store, and far more money than she and Raine had brought with them.

Besides, Lailah didn't really need armor for protection.

Raine looked the priestess up and down again, frowning. "…Well, I guess we can make this work," she said. "Although… I've seen how Blue looks at you when he thinks no one is watching. And that was when you were in a suit of full plate. Seeing you in that dress probably would've killed him on the spot."

And with that, Raine and Lailah's outing came to an end… or so the priestess thought. But as they wandered the city searching for the others, until meeting them at a small inn, the witch's words echoed in her head, again and again:

You want Abel to like you, don't you?

Now, here she was, back at the inn, staring at herself in a mirror as she wore that way-too-short dress Raine had tried to talk her into buying. …Well, considering she'd snuck back to the store by herself to buy it, it seemed the witch's persuasiveness had won out in the end. She'd snuck into the room intended for Abel- after all, it was the last place anyone would expect to find her- and changed into the dress, turning this way and that way as she inspected herself in the small mirror within to decide for herself how it looked.

And…

It may have been a little vain to say this about herself, but… had she always looked like this? Had her waist always been that narrow? Had her legs always been that long? …Had her butt always been that big? Maybe… buying this hadn't been such a bad idea. Would Abel… like it? Boys around his age were supposed to like seeing girls in revealing outfits, or so her sister claimed. But it wasn't enough to just wear it. Like Korzanna had once said, she had to show off her best features. But… how? Despite being a succubus, she didn't know the first thing about how to seduce someone.

Lailah leaned forward, giving her reflection what was meant to be a flirtatious smile. …No, that wasn't it. Her smile was too forced. Maybe if her chest had been bigger…

She tried another pose, folding her arms behind her back and squeezing her thighs together, and looked away, as if embarrassed… not that she had to pretend. It was a little better, but still not quite right. Again, maybe it would have worked more if her chest were bigger.

Then, Lailah remembered what Raine said. She turned, arching her back to make her posterior more pronounced. That… actually didn't look too bad. She smiled, this time much more naturally. A thought occurred to her-

The door began to creak open. "What is wrong with that girl?" Abel's voice said, as he himself stepped into the room. "I need to talk to Minze about-"

Whatever Abel was about to say next never left his mouth as his eyes fell on her, and he froze. Lailah had no idea how much time passed as she and Abel stared at each other, wide-eyed. But eventually, Abel was the one to find his words first, stammering:

"L-L… Lailah?"

Lailah's face heated up so much she was surprised it hadn't burst into flames. "Ah- gah-" She tried to answer, to make an excuse, to say anything at all. But the words slipped from her mind every time she tried to speak, as if she were grasping at wisps of smoke.

However, it seemed she wasn't the only one. "Uh… I- I- should, I- um… come… back? Later?" He began to retreat from the room…

But in the blink of an eye, Lailah sped to the door, pulled Abel inside by the wrists, and slammed the door hard enough to make it rattle in its frame.

It took much longer than it should have for her to realize what she had done. She had pulled a boy her age into a room. A bedroom. Alone. While wearing…

Her hands instantly shot away from his wrists. "Ah- eh- I… sorry." Her heart was hammering in her chest so hard it felt like her whole body was shaking. He was staring. At her legs. She wanted to cry from the embarrassment, but for some reason, she was also… happy he was looking?

"Uh…" he began. "This… isn't… your new… armor… is… it?" Abel's voice was strained, as if he had to focus on forming his question one word at a time, his gaze wavering as he tried- and failed- to keep his eyes from wandering down to the priestess's legs.

"Oh, no. I bought some actual protection. I, uh-" Lailah froze. She couldn't just admit she'd bought this outfit in the hope that Abel would like seeing her wear it. "I… bought this… for… sleeping?" She flashed a broad, awkward smile, hoping Abel would continue the conversation for her.

Abel looked away. "…Well, I guess your robes got ruined too, didn't they?" He seemed more relaxed, now that he wasn't looking directly at her. "Makes sense…"

The conversation trailed off. Lailah began searching for something, anything else to say. "So! Uh… how… have… you been?"

"Alright I guess. I ran into Violet a while ago. She was on her way back from buying alchemy supplies when we passed the bathhouse, and she wanted to visit. She uh… followed me into the men's side."

"Did she really?"

"And that's not even the first time something like this has happened. Back at her estate, Violet was getting ready for a bath and started taking off her clothes in front of me. Minze stopped her but… someone really needs to have a talk with her."

"Uh-huh." Lailah's tone was neutral, but for some reason, she felt a cold needle stab into her chest at hearing Abel see another girl naked. Was she… jealous?

"Anyway, I'm glad I ran into you, Lailah. Us being alone makes things easier."

Lailah's heart quickened. Why in the world would Abel have wanted the two of them to be alone? Unless… "Why?"

The priestess was completely unprepared for Abel's next words: "Can I… see your back?" Her… back? For a moment she was confused. But then he added: "And, how's your leg been? It hasn't been hurting at all, has it?"

Her wounds. He was worried about her wounds. Waves of relief and disappointment washed over her in equal measure. "My leg is fine. And… you don't have to worry about my back. Miasma…" She continued, in a much quieter voice. "…it makes me stronger, heals my wounds. So-"

But Abel didn't back down. "Lailah, you saw how much blood there was. And I've seen what happens to people when their wounds get infected. So… please? Just a quick look? I just want to make sure you're alright."

There was an honesty in Abel's words, free of any ill intent. And Lailah found herself completely unable to deny him. "…alright then."

She took a seat on the edge of the bed, holding her hair aside so her back was visible. For some reason, revealing her back to him made the priestess feel… weak. Vulnerable. Some part of her would have preferred him seeing her naked than for him to see her scars. She'd only ever looked at them once, and never again, so as not to be reminded of… what she really was.

She flinched, and pulled back when she felt Abel's touch. He withdrew. "Sorry," he said. "Does it… still hurt?"

"No," she answered. "You just… surprised me. That's all." She was glad he couldn't see her face.

"Well… they don't look infected," he began. "But… they're definitely not fully healed yet. I should be able to do something about that, though. Just, let me know if you feel anything strange, okay?" Then, Abel laid his hands on her back…

…and the most wonderful pleasure Lailah had ever felt in her life flood into Lailah's body. Her back arched, and she had to clasp her hands over her mouth to keep from crying out.

At once, Abel's hands darted away again as if he'd been burned. "S-Sorry!" he stammered. "Are you okay?"

Her hands still firmly clasped over her mouth, Lailah slowly nodded. It hadn't been painful. In fact, what she'd felt had been… very much the opposite of painful. But… she couldn't tell him that? What would she have even said?

…She hoped it hadn't left a wet spot.

Abel placed his hands on her back again. They were shaking. "Okay. Then, I'll keep going." A warmth flowed into her through her back, and with it, the surging pleasure from before. Lailah squirmed, hands still firmly clamped over her mouth to keep even the smallest moan from escaping. As the priestess tried to contain herself, a question filled her mind: Why? Why was this making her feel so good? Abel had healed her before- why was this time so different? But the worst part… was that some part of her didn't want to hide what she was feeling. It wanted her to arch her back, to cry out, to let Abel- the inn- the whole city know the pleasure she felt. And in spite of herself, her eyes began to roll back, and a moan slipped out.

Instantly, Abel pulled his hands away, and the waves of pleasure were gone again. "I-I-m sorry!" he stammered again. "We… I… I think that's enough."

She looked back. "What? Why?"

"My power… it's hurting you, isn't it? Because… you're…" Abel trailed off. But Lailah knew what he meant to say: a demon. And she knew why he didn't say it. To say it aloud, to put it into words, would have given that fact an inescapable weight, an undeniable reality.

But in that moment, the succubus playing at being a priestess could not deny her nature. She turned, facing Abel head on. "Keep going," she ordered.

He shrank away. "Lailah-"

She drew closer still. "I don't want you to stop, Abel. I want you to keep going." And even closer. "I need you to keep going!"

He crawled back, until his head bumped the headboard. She chased right after him, until she was right above him. She'd been so close. He had to finish-

A knock sounded at the door, and Holly's muffled voice called, "Abel? Are you there? Raine wanted to see you."

Hearing the mercenary's voice caused the haze that had overtaken Lailah's mind to clear. She looked down at herself- she was almost completely on top of Abel, who was pressing himself into the mattress, as if hoping to sink through it. His face… he looked…

…terrified.

She immediately sprang to the far side of the bed. She didn't look at him. She couldn't look at him.

The door creaked open, and Holly took a few tentative steps into the room. Her gaze flicked between Abel and Lailah. "…what's going on?"

"I… was healing Lailah," he replied. "She took some pretty serious wounds back at the marsh. I wanted to make sure they weren't infected."

Holly made a face, as if she didn't entirely believe Abel's words. "Well… just don't take too long, alright?" The mercenary then left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Abel stood. "I guess Raine wants to try to figure out where the next altar is. Holly's right- we shouldn't keep her waiting." He looked over to Lailah. "Come on."

Lailah didn't move, instead drawing her legs up to her chest. "I'll… be out in a minute. I need to change."

"Oh. Right. I… should go." And without a moment of delay, Abel stepped out.

Lailah sat at the edge of the bed, heart still pounding, echoes of the waves of pleasure still flowing through her body. Her mother had once told her that as a succubus, she was far more sensitive to the flow of magic than ordinary mortals. Was… that what had happened just now? As much as she hated to admit it, she wished she'd lingered in Akheros long enough to begin her training, and learn at least something about her powers.

She buried her face in her hands. How could she have let this happen? Her instincts had completely taken over. He looked so afraid, but… if Holly hadn't interrupted, how much further would she have gone?

Then Lailah shook her head. That didn't matter. Whatever would have happened was stopped. And now they had a mission to get back to. …Or at least, that was the idea. First… she needed to do something about her current state. She was a succubus. As much as she wished she wasn't. And that carried with it certain… burdens.

The bed was still warm. And… it carried his scent.

Maybe…

Watching the door, just in case there was another visitor, Lailah reached under the hem of her dress. She had bought something else: the small black garment Raine had showed her. She understood now what it was. He hadn't seen it. Not today, at least. But… one day… maybe. Setting the garment aside, she laid herself on the spot Abel had been laying, and rested a hand on the inside of her thigh, slowly sliding it higher… and higher. Her breath hitched. It was nowhere near as pleasant as his touch had been… but her imagination would have to do for now.

Ironically, what she was about to do wasn't something she'd learned from her mother, or her sister. It was something she'd learned from her time in the Abbey.

And there, in his room, on his bed, with only herself as company, she said quietly to herself the words she wanted to say out loud.

"Yes… yes! More… give me more! Abel… Abel! Abel!"

---

"Alright… got it." Raine drew a line down Abel's map.

The amulet around Abel's neck dropped with his concentration broken. Ignoring the small headache he'd given himself, he looked over to the table where his map had been laid out. A new line had been added, pointing away from Aglis to…

"Huh, southwest?" Seth asked.

"We'll need to take another measurement along the way," the witch began. "But for now, it looks like we're heading back to Istar." She looked at Seth, then Abel in turn. "So if you two were getting homesick, you lucked out."

Scowling, Fiann quickly wrote in her journal. [Can we trust this amulet? Why would it tell us to go back the way we came?]

Violet tilted her head, trying to read the bard's angular letters. Though after a moment, she seemingly gave up. "Minze, can you read this? I fear my skill in reading Vinlandic runes has fallen out of practice."

Minze provided a summary: "She asked why the amulet would tell Master Abel to go back the way he came."

Raine leaned over the map. "When Blue found out about his quest, we were in Lescatie. And Caral Marsh is a lot closer to Apollonia than any place in Windurst. Just look at the map if you don't believe me."

"I hope Captain Baird's ship is still in the harbor…" Holly said.

Suddenly, the inn door burst open. A black-haired woman clad in a Mage's Guild uniform with red-and-white trim stomped across the room and seized Abel by the collar, pulling him close. "You!" Laura roared. "What did you do!?"

Abel was too shocked to react. But in an instant, Fiann had her axe drawn, hovering it above Laura's neck, her eyes cold and lifeless. Drawing her own weapon, Raine said sharply, "Anyone ever teach you how to keep your hands to yourself?"

"Let him go, Laura," a harsh voice commanded, and Claire stepped into the inn through the still-open door.

The secretary did not obey, her glare intensifying as her grip tightened, and she actually lifted Abel off his feet. "I refuse to accept this! This degenerate… he's placed you under some sort of spell! Just like the others! There's no other explanation for it!"

Claire began crossing the inn. "I believe my explanation to the Guild was rather clear. My honor requires-"

"Fuck your honor!" Laura snapped back. "You're not even a noble anymore anyway! What good would honor do for you now!?"

Claire's face twisted in anger, but only for a moment. She then gripped one of the secretary's hands, and pried it from Abel's collar. "My decision is final, Laura," she said in measured words that only just concealed her rage. "If you are unable to accept it, then you may submit your resignation to Vice-President Mavis."

Laura turned her glare on Abel. "This isn't over…" she growled, before shoving him back. She then turned her back and stormed out of the inn, but not before shouting "God fucking dammit!" and stopping to kick a table hard enough to flip it over with a deafening crash.

The group stared at Claire for several moments, before Raine finally asked the obvious question: "…what the hell was that?"

"I have informed the Guild that I will be in your party's company for a while longer," the president replied. "Unfortunately, Laura seems unwilling to accept my decision."

Abel rubbed his neck, still feeling his collar tightened around it. "…You're coming with us? I thought you were finished once we came back from Caral Marsh."

Claire toward him, visibly uncomfortable as she averted her eyes. "…Twice now. I'd hoped to settle my debt with you in Caral, but our encounter with Guillaume only managed to further indebt me to you. As such, my honor requires I continue to accompany you." She then glared, folding her arms over her chest. "But don't forget what I said before, degenerate. You and I are not friends. And I have no intention of indebting my life to you for a third time. And if you think for even one second of trying to pull me into your harem, you-"

From the inn's upper level, a door flew open, and a flurry of steps came rushing down the stairs. "What was all that noise?" Lailah asked, spear in hand, clad in a black-and-gold outfit Abel had never seen before. Her eyes snapped to Claire. "You-!"

"Lailah wait!" Abel said.

"Hey!" a gruff man behind the bar shouted. "Whatever beef you've got with each other, you take it outside! You've smashed up enough as it is!"

Lailah put her spear away, but remained tense. "What do you want now?" she asked brusquely. "Shouldn't you be headed back to the Guild?"

Claire held up her hands to show she had no hostile intent. "Believe me, if things were that simple, I would," she replied. "But as I said, I have yet to repay my debt to the degenerate. As such, I'll be accompanying you all for a while longer."

"I feel so honored," Seth said coldly.

The president looked over at the map laid out on the table. "So. Where's our next destination?"

"Southeast. Windurst, most likely," Raine replied. "As to where specifically… we'll need to get a good distance from Aglis before…"

Raine trailed off as a white light began to shine just above the table. Then, there was a flash, and Niel appeared. "Sorry I took so long," she said, descending to the table. She then looked down at the map under her feet. "You've already determined our next destination. I was sure you'd be using this time to slack off." Her eye drifted to Claire. "…You're here."

Claire huffed. "Yes. I am." She leaned forward to tower over the angel. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Niel put her hands on her hips, glaring up at the president in turn. "Just so you know, what we went through back in Caral Marsh… every day will be like that from this point forward. If you have any doubts…"

Claire looked down at the angel indignantly. "Just who do you think you're talking to? My family has produced no less than four Heroes in this era. I'm certain I'm more than capable…"

As Claire and Niel argued, Lailah leaned in close to Abel. "Abel…" she began. "You aren't going to let the president come with us, are you?" Now that she was close, Abel was struck by a most peculiar scent that seemed to emanate from the priestess. The scent… reminded him of the Temple of Eros. But he brushed it aside, along with the odd, heady feeling it gave him.

"I wouldn't worry too much, Sis," Raine muttered as she leaned in as well. "Nobles like Prez are accustomed to a certain standard of living. Once she's away from it too long, she'll get sick of tailing Blue and call her debt settled. We just gotta put up with her until that happens. 'Til then… try not to kill each other." The witch smiled slyly. "Think you can handle that?"

Lailah's gaze shifted to Abel. "What do you think, Abel?"

"I… think Raine's right," Abel said absently. "She probably wouldn't listen if I told her not to follow us."

Since Niel had returned, he couldn't help but feel that something… wasn't right about her. But as he watched the angel argue with Claire, he realized what it was. And now that he had, it was all he could focus on.

Niel's halo… was gone.

---

In the weeks that President Meltrose had been absent, Mavis had made very few changes to the Guild president's office. But now that her "temporary promotion" was beginning to look more and more permanent, she thought perhaps she would set some time aside to add some personal touches. Only one thing had changed thus far: a small lantern of black iron rested on the center desk, which held a flame that burned in an eerie blue light.

As she stepped into the office, though it was empty, she said aloud, "Sorry I was gone for so long. President Meltrose notified the Guild she will be away for a while longer. Apparently, she hasn't settled her debt to Master Abel to her satisfaction."

There was no answer.

"Speaking of Master Abel, he found what he was looking for in Caral Marsh, so he'll be departing soon. He also brought back this." She set something on the desk next to the lantern: a twisted, half-melted metal skull. "This is the head of Guillaume Rouque. The man who made that flesh golem. Yes, that Guillaume Rouque, from the Ermisian Civil War." She walked to the window, gazing out over the city- clouds rolled through the sky above, giving the city a dull, drained appearance. "Apparently, he'd been using that substance we found in the golem- rubedo- to extend his own life. But… Abel stopped him. And he kept his promise. He said he would bring back the head of the person who did this. And he did."

The office was silent.

Mavis stopped and turned, looking toward the lantern. "…Erica, are you listening?"

The blue flame in the lantern flared, shaping itself into a small human-shaped figure. "Sorry. I'm almost finished regenerating my body. It takes a lot of concentration."

The vice-president looked down at the lantern. "You've been working at that for a while now. Should it really be taking this long?"

"Well, it's not like I've ever had to do it before," the figure replied. "The Guild took good care of me until recently."

Mavis couldn't really argue with that. She didn't know the first thing about being a lich. And as Erica said, until very recently the Guild had done most of the work in preserving Erica's body, keeping it as lifelike for as long as possible. However, this recent development provided the Guild with a new avenue of study, shedding light on just how the regenerative powers of liches functioned, and they seized upon any chance to delve deeper into the otherwise banned realm of necromancy.

Mavis lifted the lantern by its handle. "Master Abel was quite upset, you know. So upset I actually considered telling him the truth."

"I know. The last thing I saw before I was pulled back to my phylactery was him trying to save me." The tiny figure in the lantern tilted its head. "…You didn't actually tell him, did you?"

The vice-president returned to the window, cradling the lantern in her arms, the flame within giving off a gentle, comfortable warmth. It didn't compare to actually holding Erica in her arms, but it would have to suffice until her lover had fully recovered. "No, of course not. Master Abel seems like the understanding sort, but expecting him to accept that the Guild is harboring a lich might be asking a bit too much."

For a while, Mavis stood in front of the window, stroking the lantern- Erica's phylactery- as she held it in her arms. She didn't know if Erica could feel her touch, but she still found it soothing all the same. Then, Erica said, "Still, it's strange."

"What is?"

"Ordinary healing spells don't work on the undead. But, Master Abel still managed to heal my eyes. …I have to admit, I'm rather sad his efforts went to waste."

"I did wonder about that as well…" Mavis turned back to the desk, setting the lantern upon it.

"So…" The flame leaned in the lantern, pointing toward the skull. "Is that the head?"

"It is," Mavis replied. "Master Abel said it was the head of Guillaume Rouque."

"Oh, I heard that part. It's just… hard to believe."

Mavis looked down at the lantern. "That Master Abel was the one to defeat him?"

"That a member of the Black Hand was so close- in our own territory, no less! And we never even realized it. And those golems… I just hope that Master Abel put an end to all of this. For everyone's sake."

"Yes. Let's hope so…" Mavis circled around the desk and seated herself. The pile of papers stacked on it hadn't diminished in the slightest- if anything, they'd grown slightly taller in her brief absence. But, daunting as the work may have been, it needed to be done.

Mavis had a Guild to run, after all.

---

Damia walked through the streets of the eastern side of Aglis, hood raised, clutching a stack of papers against her chest. She had just paid a visit to Erica's home. However, her reasons for visiting were purely work-related. Erica had pulled a few financial documents from the archives for review, but those documents needed to be retrieved, and as one of Erica's closest associates (and the only person with a key to her home), Damia was the natural choice to retrieve them.

Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed into the side of her head, and stumbled. Something clatted against the brick road underfoot: a small stone. It was followed by a voice both shrill and scratchy, like a small child trying to imitate an adult. "Well look who it is." Damia turned to the voice's source. Three boys were approaching- a fat one with messy black hair, a lanky one with orange hair, and one taller than the other two, his hair speckled in various shades of grey. She recognized them, of course. Residents of this part of the city. And like many in Aglis, they did not look kindly on demi-humans. Even being part of the Mage's Guild wasn't enough to deter them. The lanky boy continued, in his shrill, scratchy voice, "I thought I smelled fish."

"Weren't you Mage Guild types supposed to be smart?" the fat boy asked. "Seems like you never learn your lesson."

Damia tensed, trying to pull inside of herself as she always did. She hoped, maybe this time, they would leave things at that.

They never did.

The boys surrounded her. She tried to ignore them, as always- their jeers, their prods, even the odd punch or kick… until one of the boys pushed her, and she stumbled, the documents scattering as they fell from her hands. The documents did not escape the fat boy's notice. "Oh, what are these?" he bent down, picking up the scattered papers.

Damia struggled to her feet. "Those documents are property of the Mage's Guild! Give them back!"

The fat boy looked at the documents. "Is that right?" Then without a moment of hesitation, he ripped them in half, over and over again, until they were little more than thin ribbons. "Oh. Would you look at that? You really should be more careful with something so important."

He laughed. The other boys joined him. But Damia barely heard them. As she looked at the scattered paper fragments, she felt something inside of herself… break. Like a rope with too much strain. Wordlessly, she stood, head lowered.

Why?

Why was she afraid?

He hadn't been afraid of them.

Why should she?

She raised her hand, aiming her palm at the black-haired boy. "Aqua Bullet."

A small ball, about the size of the stone that struck Damia before, shot out of her palm and struck the boy in the face with a loud crack. "Gah!" The fat boy staggered back, clutching his face. He glared as blood and tears dripped between his fingers. "You fucking mog! You broke my goddamn nose!"

"Did I?" Damia asked. Her words were cold with anger. Like a river overflowing a dam, all the rage, all the anger from every torment these boys inflicted on her began to spill out. Mana flowed out of her, taking the form of water droplets suspended in the air around her- her preferred element.

The grey-haired boy immediately drew a knife from his pocket. "You think we're gonna let you get away with that, you bitch?"

Damia pulled back her hood to show her face, twisted in a snarl that showed her teeth. Such a thing would have been unthinkable normally… but at that moment, Damia was quite done being civil. "If you value your continued safety, yes."

The grey-haired boy wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "You know I always thought you looked like a fish," he growled. "Let's see if I can gut you like one too!" He charged, drawing his knife close.

Damia said nothing. At her will, the water around her gathered into a single tentacle-like appendage that whipped out, striking the boy's hand with a loud crack. Crying out, he stumbled and fell to his knees, clutching his hand as blood dripped from a large gash near his wrist, the knife falling from his hand. "I'm going to give you one last chance to-" Damia's attention snapped to movement in the corner of her eye: the lanky boy. He'd tried to sneak to her side, a large stone in his hand. Without hesitation, she aimed her palm at him, a mass of water already condensing there. The boy jolted and darted back, dropping his stone.

But her lapse in attention gave the grey-haired boy an opening. Snatching up the knife in his other hand, he charged at Damia again. But her hand snapped to the boy, letting her watery projectile loose. It struck him in the chest- again, there was a crack , but a deeper one, closer to the sound of a braking branch than a cracking whip. The boy hit the ground back-first, sliding a short distance before coming to a stop. He did not rise again.

"Julien! S-Shit!" The lanky boy ran to his grey-haired cohort.

The fat boy edged closer to the other two. "You fucking bitch! Just wait until the city watch hears about this! They'll have your head, mog! You hear me!? They'll rip your fucking heart out!"

"Don't be so sure," Damia snapped back. "Theft and destruction of Guild property is a serious crime. Your heads could be the ones that end up on the chopping block." She focused, and the water around her gathered into her hand, shaping itself into a thin but sharp sword. "Though, I could always claim them here and now instead." She took a step forward.

The two remaining boys blanched, and ran away so quickly they were out of sight in a matter of moments. They left the grey-haired boy behind, seemingly content to leave him to his fate.

Taking a breath, the sword of water in Damia's hand slipped through her fingers. And with it, all the bravado drained out of her, as if she were a bottle someone pulled the stopper out of. It hadn't been an accident that she'd chosen a sword. After all, it was the same weapon that he used. But how in the world had he made it look so effortless? Right now-

"You there!"

Damia froze. Her paralysis was so complete that had someone had pushed her, she would have toppled over as if she'd been turned into a statue of herself. The voice called again, "Yes, you! Come here!"

Damia didn't comply. So whoever called out came to her instead. She didn't dare look them in the eye, but she could see the stranger wasn't part of the city guard- rather than a black-and-gold surcoat, they wore battered grey armor with a blue tabard hanging down the front. A Crusader, perhaps? There were a few garrisoned in the city, but Damia always kept her distance from them.

"Let me see your face," the stranger ordered.

She tilted her head up, keeping her eyes down, still not meeting the stranger's gaze.

Then, the stranger said something she would never have anticipated. "As I thought. You're a naiad, aren't you?"

Damia looked up in shock. "How did you-" Not even the others in the Guild knew that. But this stranger could tell just from a glance. And speaking of the stranger…

He was… well, it felt strange to use the word "gorgeous" to describe a man, but it was the only word that fit. It was as if a prince from a book of fairy tales had stepped out from its pages and into the real world. As he stood before her, he practically shone like a miniature sun. Damia quickly fell silent, and averted her eyes again, though in embarrassment rather than fear.

"Naiads are quite rare," the man said, in surprisingly gentle words. "So rare that most can go their whole lives without even knowing they exist. But my family… has a very close connection to the naiads." The man stooped down, trying to meet Damia's eye. "What's your name?"

For several moments Damia was silent. But, in the end, the weight of the man's expectant gaze broke her resolve. Even so, it was with the utmost reluctance that she answered, "…Damia."

"Damia…" the man repeated. "I see. My name is Roland."

Roland. Something in Damia's mind stirred. Wasn't that-

Then, Damia felt her heart stop beating. Roland. That was the name of the prince. Mavors's prince. She'd actually seen him at the Guild, once or twice, though only ever at a distance. Up close, his radiance was so blinding that she hadn't made the connection.

Instantly, she felt to her knees, curling up into a tight ball. "I… I'm sorry," she whimpered. "Pl-Please don't kill me."

"And why would I do that?" Roland asked. He… sounded confused. "You were merely defending yourself, were you not? I was watching. Had you not taken initiative, I would have stepped in."

This… couldn't be real. That first stone must have knocked her unconscious… or worse.

Roland stooped, gathering the scattered pieces of documents. "In any case," he continued. "…I would like to make an unusual request. I'm going to be leaving Aglis soon, to visit the springs where the naiads dwell. I will need their blessing so Durandal can reach its full potential." He paused to look her way. "Would you be willing to assist me in this, Miss Damia?"

His words snapped Damia out of her stunned state. Help? How? She barely knew anything about naiads. She knew she was one, and that her mother was one too, but that didn't mean anything. Also… "But… I have responsibilities to the Guild! I can't just-"

"I'm certain the Guild would be willing to accommodate my request." Roland stood. "Now. I believe these belong to you." He held the documents out to her… or rather, the pile of shredded fragments that had once been documents. There didn't seem to be any pieces missing, but… would the acting librarian even accept them back in her current state? Damia braced herself for another long night transcribing records…

…or, would she?

Maybe… this was exactly what she needed. Some time away from Aglis. After all, it gave her the chance to learn more about her kind, about herself. And the request had come from Prince Roland himself! As a Hero, he could recruit whoever he deemed necessary to his cause. There was no way they would deny him.

"Actually…" she began, beginning to stand up straighter than normal. "I… would be honored to aid you, however I can."

Roland looked down at Damia, surprised. "Well… I wouldn't say I'm not happy to hear that. But what made you change your mind?"

Twice. Master Abel had helped her twice now, and the second time had merely been his memory. If she saw him on the road… she would have to give him her thanks.

Smiling to herself, Damia replied, "There's someone… I admire. I'd like to be more like him."

---

Far away from Aglis, in a chamber under a mountain standing near the heart of the Ermisian Empire, a sarcophagus of steel and wire slid open with a hiss. As steam billowed out, the man slumbering within sat up, and disconnected a long, slender cable plugged into a port in the base of his skull.

"Master," a female voice said. "You've awakened." The voice's owner stepped into the man's line of sight. Like all flesh golems, she had pale skin, and long hair colored a pale silver. Something about the process of rubedo infusion drained all pigmentation from the resultant golem's skin and hair- while some golems resorted to dyes and pigments to grant themselves some semblance of normalcy to better infiltrate human societies, it was a defect the man had yet to correct in spite of his best efforts. The golem's arms had been replaced with larger ones made from steel, but they were meant for manual labor rather than combat- her bones, particularly her spine, had been reinforced with various metal alloys to accommodate her expected responsibilities, ensuring they wouldn't break or detach even under the heaviest loads.

This golem's designation was Tsadi-1, and she had been designed to serve a supporting role. Unlike many golems the man had crafted, she was built from ogre stock, something readily apparent from a glance: she was far taller than most women (and men, for that matter), a single black horn sprouted from the center of her forehead, and even before her full suite of modifications had been installed, she possessed a phenomenal strength that rivaled even his strongest combat golems. Tsadi's obviously inhuman nature meant her use as a field operative was limited, so she instead remained at his side, becoming his assistant in his labors. This also meant that of the countless golems he had created, she alone had never been lost- reflected by the 1 in her designation- serving faithfully by his side for almost three hundred years, becoming something of an unofficial second-in-command among the others due to her age and length of service. Despite using an ogre as her base, Tsadi's figure was one that a person might describe as "voluptuous;" while the man held no interest in the shape of her body, he had come to understand that creating golems from subjects with more enticing physiques allowed them to operate in the field with fewer hindrances, and more than once operatives had requested to have their bodies reshaped to more closely resemble Tsadi.

The man climbed out of the sarcophagus- he was naked, but neither he nor his assistant paid any mind. "Not by choice, I assure you," he said. "The remote body was destroyed."

The remote body. Originally a platform to test new modifications prior to installing them into new golem models without placing himself at risk, but over time, he'd begun to use it more than his original flesh and blood, despite the considerable amount of rubedo consumed by its operation. He'd even gone so far to reshape the body's features to more closely resemble his own.

And to think, Tsadi had once chided him for being too paranoid.

Tsadi looked down at the man, surprised. "Destroyed, Master?"

The man glared up at the flesh golem. "Yes, destroyed. Did you not hear me the first time?"

Tsadi recoiled. "I- …m-my apologies, Master." She bowed.

Near the sarcophagus, a set of fresh clothes had been laid out per the man's instructions. But though he picked up the clothes, he chose not to don them. "Have you been transcribing the data sent from the Caral facility?"

"Yes, Master."

"Excellent. Then we can resume operations without delay." The man walked toward a heavy steel door- Tsadi rushed ahead of him to pull it open, stepping into a passageway of polished stone, illuminated by torches topped with glowing yellow crystals. The Mavors facility, while useful, had never been more than "adequate" for the man's purposes. Without access to certain facilities, certain activities- such as the construction of more sophisticated flesh golem units and their implants- were far more limited. He had always hoped to expand that facility's capabilities, but such efforts would have undoubtedly drawn the needless attention of the local authorities and the Mage's Guild.

In a way, his unexpected relocation had proved beneficial. True, the facility itself had been lost, but the golems could be easily replaced- the Resh units in particular had been made as expendable attack units. And with his more sophisticated equipment more readily within reach, he was capable of far more now than he had been in Caral Marsh. Even the loss of the rubedo collected there, though a setback, was far from insurmountable. This facility- commonly known simply as "Central" to his creations- was located near a large city and several major highways. Even with the protection of the local garrison, disappearances were not unheard of.

Tsadi rushed forward again, opening another steel door. This door led into a clean room lined with white tile, an operating table of gleaming metal resting in its center, with several bright lights shining down on it. As he entered, Tsadi asked, "Master, would it be correct to assume the Caral facility has been destroyed as well?"

"Yes," he replied. "However, the loss should not significantly affect our operations here in Central." As he spoke, the man crossed the room and made his way to a workbench pushed against the far wall. A number of modifications had been laid out on it- after inspecting each one in turn, he crossed the room again, and laid down on the table on his stomach. "That said, we will need to dispatch material collection teams once we're finished here. Increasing our rubedo reserves should be our main priority. Dispatch the teams once we're finished here."

Tsadi said nothing as she stepped across the room and stood next to the operating table. She had an odd expression as she looked down at the man.

He lifted his head to match her gaze. "Tsadi," he said sternly. "I gave you a directive."

Still wearing that odd expression, she replied in a vacant tone, "Directive acknowledged, Master." Then, taking a scalpel in hand, she then said, "I believe installation of the reinforced vertebral unit would be the best place to begin, followed by the bladed caudal unit. Per your instructions, they have been modified to meet your specifications. Do you concur?"

"Yes. You may begin." Tsadi wasted no time in getting to work, cutting open the skin along the man's spine.

Being alive for as long as she had, Tsadi had developed a great deal of independence. This had benefits- her analysis could often reveal information or perspectives the man had not considered, and he occasionally found her discussions quite enjoyable- but it came with detriments as well- and though she would always ultimately comply, unlike other units she was not afraid to challenge his orders, and often expressed reluctance at dispatching teams to collect rubedo or other necessary material. More than once the man had considered liquidating her and using her materials to construct the next iteration of her model line, but much to his consternation, Tsadi had managed to make herself utterly indispensable to his operations through her years of experience: no unit he'd yet crafted could match her skill in logistics, and more than a few modifications or their improvements had come to fruition because of her commentary.

As she cut through the nerve connecting the base of his spine to his pelvis, the man noticed an odd expression lingering on the golem's face, different from the normal disquiet she expressed at collecting material. It piqued his curiosity, as it was an emotion he couldn't place. "Is something troubling you, Tsadi? You've never been given to squeamishness in operations before."

"No, Master," she replied slowly, gently lifting the man's detached spinal column from her incision. "It's merely…" Several moments passed before she continued. "You designed the remote body to carry the best and latest variants of your golem modifications. Calculations of your own combat capabilities determined that even against large groups of highly skilled and dangerous enemies, there was only a 0.03 percent chance of an opponent defeating you."

"Your point, Tsadi?" His second-in-command was never one to speak in circles, so this mood was very unbecoming of her.

Tsadi took an implant- a long metal piece that resembled a human spine, and laid it in the cavity where his spine had been. As she attached the man's ribs to the implant, she continued, "I took the liberty of reviewing some of the data transmitted by the remote body. From what I observed, I surmise your opponent- or opponents- were exceptionally powerful, even by the scope of your expectations."

The man would need to review that data later, when he could examine it from an objective point of view, but the memory of his most recent battle was still fresh in his mind. Most of the intruders would have made passable-to-outstanding flesh golems, but the boy... after observing his abilities, the man thought that perhaps he should craft a set of wings of his own. And speaking of his abilities… were they the product of training, or perhaps some quality unique to himself? And if the boy were made into a flesh golem, could those abilities be retained in some fashion? Or perhaps, even duplicated and given to other units? "…Yes. They were."

But fascinating as the boy may be as a potential test subject, the man had more pressing matters to attend to. Despite his best efforts, it was clear his modifications were insufficient. And that had been against a single foe, albeit an abnormally powerful one. Against an army… he would need to bring something far grander to bear.

Perhaps…

There was a click, and a sharp pain shot up and down the man's new spine. The new implant had been successfully attached to his nerve endings. And now that he could move again, he pushed himself up off the table's surface, catching Tsadi by surprise. "Master?" she asked, fumbling the scalpel in her hands.

"Tsadi, send a recall order to all field operatives on assignments not designated as 'Critical.' I want all units on station within the next three months."

"Master Guillaume-" Tsadi began.

But he wasn't finished. "Also, issue orders to all support units on standby." He climbed off the table, and dressed himself quickly, ignoring the sensation as the fabric of his coat touched the open flesh of his back. "Assembly of Units 1, 2, and 3 is to begin immediately."

Tsadi stiffened, her expression becoming… fearful. "Does that mean-"

"Yes," Guillaume replied, cutting off the golem. He reached into the pocket of his coat, and placed his monocle over his right eye. "It is time for us to begin Project Aleph in earnest."